


King and Queen

by Rebel_Captain



Series: And it feels like home. [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, gotta love the fertile genes, in which they have sex once and Roslin is insta pregnant, what even was that tag jesus christ kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-06 19:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17946017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Captain/pseuds/Rebel_Captain
Summary: Roslin had expected to be Lady Stark, of course. She knows her duties when it comes to being a Lady. But being a Queen?---------------------Season 1 AU





	King and Queen

Roslin gets used to war, eventually.

The first month was been the worst; trying to get to know the northerners, trying to get used to this new environment and that they changed location every so often. Things got easier with time, and she'd made a few friends within camp. 

Then Robb had been crowned King in the North. 

Roslin had expected to be Lady Stark, of course. She knows her duties when it comes to being a Lady. But being a Queen? That was something Roslin has never anticipated in her life. The quiet girl from house Frey, being _Queen_.

Her duties haven't changed much, and she suspects that they won't for a while. They would most definitely change whenever she arrives in Winterfell. Robb and her have spoken of it every so often, and Roslin looks forward to her duties there. But here? She feels... stuck, unsure of what the hell she was doing.

She worries about it so much that she finds herself becoming ill. It started off one morning, in the middle of getting dressed. She bends over her chamber pot and heaves into it, what little breakfast she'd eaten coming up instantly. It continues at odd times during the day, and she finds herself feeling dizzy more often. 

Stress can do horrid things to the body.

Along with feeling nauseous at all times, her breasts become tender, she feels more tired and goes to bed earlier every night, and she finds herself growing irritated if something tiny even inconveniences her. That she finds the most odd, as she rarely gets openly irritated. 

A month goes by, and soon she finds herself unable to stand the smell of wine and pork, but she is unable to get enough of mint tea or plain bread. Robb jokes about it one night, teasing that there would be a riot if he banned wine because she can't stand it. She bursts into tears and Robb has never looked so horrified with himself. He doesn't look her in the eye for two days after that. She sits him down and explains that she's just tired, and it's making her a little more sensitive. He nods in understanding, though he still seems rather confused.

Roslin can't blame him, she's confused too.

The nausea calms down a little, but everything else doesn't. It isn't for a few more weeks that she notices.

Her belly has began to swell.

She freezes in the middle of getting dressed, staring at her middle in the dirty mirror. She turns to the side, and yes, it's more obvious now. Her once ridiculously thin abdomen was ever so faintly round. Roslin swallows, her throat feeling as though something was caught in it. Gently, she rests her hand against her stomach, lightly moving her fingers over her shift. When she presses down, her stomach feels just a little firmer than before.

She is to be a mother, and Robb a father.

"Gods," she whispers, before she faints. 

* * *

 

When she wakes up, Robb's face is hovering over hers. Panic is in his eyes, but the emotion quickly changes to relief when her eyes open. He helps her sit up, keeping one hand on her back, the other gently grasping her hand.

"When you didn't meet my mother for tea I came looking for you," he tells her, brows furrowed with concern. "I came in and found you on the ground and..." he swallows, looking off at the entrance to their tent, then back at her.

"I'm alright," she reassures him, squeezing his hand. "I think I just stood up too quickly, that's all." she smiles, even though she internally hates herself for lying to him. But, she won't say a word about the babe, not until she sees one of the medics they'd brought with them for the battles.

"You haven't been eating much lately." he accuses, helping her stand up. 

"I haven't been feeling hungry lately." she shoots back, giving him a frown. "It won't happen again." she says, letting go of his arm to resume getting dressed. Robb is silent for a good minute or two, and she turns to look at him. He's staring at her, rather incredulously. "What?" she asks sharply, resting her hands on her hips.

He takes a moment, but he snaps out of it. "Nothing, just- eat a little more, please?" is all he says before leaving the tent. Roslin stares after him for a moment, rubbing her face with a sigh. She turns back to the mirror once she's dressed, biting her lip. Her dress is tight around the midsection. People wouldn't notice unless they knew but... Roslin knows. Knows that the tiniest swell her dress is showing means that she is, most definitely, pregnant. It's almost laughable, really, at how easily she got pregnant.

Roslin and Robb had only had sex on their wedding night, but, she supposes, the Frey and Tully genes won out. Both families were known for producing many children. If the Gods were good, Roslin would bless Robb with countless other babes. 

Roslin quickly braids her hair and finishes lacing up her dress. She hesitates for a moment, before grabbing her cloak and pulling it on. She slides her feet into a pair of boots, and then she leaves the tent. She takes a quick look around, watching as various Lords and soldiers went about their day. Roslin takes a deep breath, before making her way to the medics tent. Thankfully, only one is currently on duty.

"Your grace!" she greets, giving a quick curtsy. "Is everything alright?"

Roslin gives her a smile, still rather unused to people curtsying to her. "Everything is... fine." she said slowly, sitting down on one of the cots. "I just need you to confirm something for me, is all."

* * *

 

That night, she asks Robb to join her in their tent for dinner. She sheds her cloak and unbraids her hair, nothing but nerves running throughout her entire being. The medic had confirmed that Roslin was pregnant, nearly three and a half moons gone. Roslin knew that of course, given that she had only had sex the once. Not that she was going to go around and tell people that.

She's fiddling with the edge of her goblet when Robb comes in. He gives her a smile, before beginning to remove his armour. The silence between them is comfortable, not awkward in the slightest. Roslin averts her eyes when he changes into a clean shirt, keeping her eyes on the table.

"Roslin?" he asks, arching a brow as she keeps her eyes on the table.

"Sorry, just... sit down, Robb." she smiles, taking a sip of her water. He looks even more confused, if that's possible, but he sits down, taking a sip from his cup of ale. "How was your day?" she asks lightly, genuinely curious.

"Full of nothing but stress. From you collapsing, to Bolton chattering on about his bastard, to dealing with Theon being a damned-" he inhales sharply, scowling at the table. At the sight of her vaguely startled expression, he relaxes. "Sorry-"

"It's fine, Robb." she says, reaching over to squeeze his hand. 

"And your day?" he asks, shifting his hand so that he can sweep his thumb along the back of her hand ever so gently. Roslin smiles at the gentleness, focusing on his hand for a moment.

"Quiet. I went to the medics tent to get checked over, and I managed to finish off my piece." she says, vaguely gesturing to the stack of sheet music she's been scribbling away at all day.

"Are you alright?" he asks, brows furrowing with concern. "Didn't hit your head or anything?"

"Physically, I'm perfectly healthy. Didn't hit my head too hard." she tells him, taking another sip of her water. "I didn't go to get checked for that though." she adds, fiddling with the end of her braid. _Tell him, just tell him._ Roslin opens her mouth to say something, before it automatically closes. It feels like someone has shoved cotton all down her throat, rendering her unable to speak.

"Roslin?" Robb prods, voice thick concern. Her silence must be frightening him. "What is it?"

"I'm-" she takes several sips of her water, trying to get rid of the cotton feeling in her mouth. "I'm pregnant, Robb." she finally gets out.

The silence is thick between them.

Robb is staring at Roslin with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. Roslin quietly sips at her water, nerves rolling through her stomach. Or perhaps it's nausea? She can't quite tell.

"Truly?" Robb asks after several minutes of silence.

"Truly."

Robb goes quiet again, blue eyes stuck to her face. It's as if he's expecting her to joke about it, that it was some jape. She should feel offence, but she doesn't. Slowly, his eyes make their way down her face, her neck, her chest, before landing on her stomach. Something in his expression softens as he takes in the barely visible swell that her dress is showing. 

"Robb?" she calls out after further silence, and he shakes himself out of it. Suddenly, he is beaming at her.

"Sorry, I just- I was surprised and-" he stands up, making his way to Roslin's side of the table. He crouches down by her chair, and she twists to look at him properly. Surprise shoos through her. Robb has never looked so happy in all the months she's known him. He reaches out, clearly itching to rest his palm against her belly. But he stops, looking up at her again. "Can I?" he asks, voice trembling ever so slightly.

"Of course." she smiles, reaching out and carding her fingers through his hair. She doesn't know why she does it- pure instinct perhaps?- but Robb seems to like it, judging by the way his eyes fall shut for a moment and that his head leans into her hand. 

Still, he opens his eyes once more, gaze zeroing back in on her stomach. He finally lets his fingers brush across her stomach, before he lays his palm flat. Robb is silent once more, gods, she'll have to get used to this.

"Thank you." he finally speaks up, and she's surprised to see a faint wetness in his eyes. "Thank you." he says again, going back to beaming at Roslin. Roslin beams back, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I suppose I should be the one thanking you, really." she points out, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his. 

Robb hums, sweeping his thumb across her stomach. "I'm not the one who has to carry our babe for many more moons." he shoots back, a smirk on his lips. He sounds oddly proud, it almost makes Roslin roll her eyes.

"I suppose I should be cursing you, then?"

"I've heard it's common for pregnant women to do to their husbands."

"Well, in that case, then you're a royal prick and I want to set Grey Wind on your crotch just so I don't have to go through the hell that's going to be childbirth any more after this one." 

Robb snorts, tilting his head up slightly so he can look her in the eye. "Are you slandering your king?" he asks, as seriously as he can.

"Perhaps."

"There's laws against that."

"I'm sure there's also laws about putting the queen through pain, but no one seems to give a stuff about that." she pouts, and he grins, shutting his eyes.

"Seems we're both breaking the law. Or, I will in five more months."

"It seems so. What do you propose we do about that?" she teases, and Robb pauses, looking into her eyes again.

"This."

He tilts his head up, softly pressing his lips to hers. Roslin kisses back straight away, reaching out and cupping his face in her hands. This is their first kiss since... since their wedding night. Gods, they were stupid not to do this sooner. Roslin tilts her head a tad, deepening the kiss. Robb hums, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her closer. Roslin winces when the arm of the chair presses into her middle, gently pushing Robb away, though he most certainly chases after her. Perhaps subconsciously.

"Chair arm." she says softly, pressing her hand against his chest.

"Oh! Right, sorry!" he apologises, cheeks darkening just a tad. 

"Do I make you blush, my king?" she teases, grinning at him. He smiles, leaning over and kissing her forehead.

"Oh, my queen, you have no idea." 


End file.
